Switch
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: Duo and Heero just want to have a night together after three weeks apart but there's a relationship crisis that is a really annoying interruption. Can they solve Quatre and Trowa's issues and actually get their night together? One shot. Humor-ish. 1x2x1


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the boys but I do enjoy playing with them…

Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4 and 5xS

Warnings: yaoi, m/m sexual relations, swearing, sap, abuse of fandom clichés, some humour?

A/N: You know that old fandom cliché that Quatre and Trowa will have a lovely functional relationship and Duo and Heero will always be the ones fighting and arguing, breaking up and making up? Yeah, this fic is the reverse.

Beta'd by the awesome ELLE as usual.

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**Switch**

The two bottles of wine sat on the coffee table, one empty, the other two thirds gone and the two glasses had been abandoned with whatever remained inside. The movie was being ignored, the explosions and gunfire echoing in the background and the evidence of the takeout consumed and whatever leftovers were just left, not moved from to the fridge like they probably should've been. Right now, it didn't matter as three weeks was a _damn _long time and Duo was more interested in the tongue in his mouth, the body pinning him down to the couch and the fingers currently still working on over shirt action.

They were doing it right this time. When Duo had arrived back, reports written, medical check done and finally allowed to leave Preventer HQ, he'd input the code for the door security system and went looking for his other half in the apartment who was found in the makeshift office/spare room and he leaned on the doorway, watching for a moment. Heero knew he was there, of course he damn well did, Heero always knew that but he was finishing typing before he turned and Duo didn't mind. Three weeks always gave him appreciation of home, of Heero, of what they had and what they fucking fought for. Watching him, straight backed in the office chair, the way his hair curled at little at the back of his neck and the way his hands worked over the keys of his laptop was oddly hypnotic. It made him feel like a fucking sap that he realised that this was being content – being in their apartment even just watching Heero work on that stupid laptop he'd threatened to throw out of the window many times.

When Heero finally turned around he hadn't quite anticipated the response, being pulled down by his Preventer tie and ending up on the floor, the carpeting not really providing the necessary padding for Heero being on his knees in front of him, and the quick thrusts of three weeks apart bringing them to completion too quickly and collapsing together on the floor, sharing kisses they'd forgotten in the fumbling of clothing and speed to climax.

"Miss me?" Duo teased and only got a grunt of response.

Yeah, he knew Heero had missed him as a few hours later when he'd gone to shower only to find Heero arrived on the pretence of seeing whatever new wounds or injuries he'd been inflicted with. Though he half-heartedly pointed out that he'd not been wounded _there _as fingers worked inside him, his protests died on his lips as they were removed to be replaced by a hard cock and he was pushed against the tiled wall. His hair fucking everywhere and his face in the shower spray was damn annoying but on each thrust, his complaints died and he relaxed back into that muscled chest allowing Heero to set the rhythm of their bodies.

Now they were taking it slow. They were doing the normal couple shit – movie, takeout, wine that would lead to a night of slow sweaty screwing that Duo was sure Quatre would call making love and he would too if even thinking those words didn't make him want to vomit. And so far, the plan had gone well. It had been at least three hours since the shower, both dressed casually, Duo had been to the liquor store and picked a wine that had a picture of a vineyard on the bottle as neither of them knew shit about it. There was white, there was red and like hell would he ever buy pink. They'd managed to establish that they thought red tasted better but that was about all the fuck he knew but it had done what they wanted, relaxed them a little but they would both need a hell of a lot more to be drunk. Heero had selected a movie that seemed passable, something with action and guns and explosions and ordered Chinese food and when it arrived they sat on the floor by the coffee table.

They'd managed to concentrate on the movie for the first half, food abandoned on the coffee table, glasses held loosely in hands but then, as always happened, they began to critique the weapons and then it became a critique of the blast radiuses of explosives and before they knew it, they'd both decided that kissing would be a better use of their time than watching a stupid fucking movie where the hero didn't even know how to hold his weapon properly. A weapon that somehow magically hit every bad guy and even though the bad guys fired a _lot _more bullets, they somehow never hit him. Having both been shot – and as Heero never stopped reminding him, Duo had shot him – they knew no one, surely, was that bad of a shot. Especially when armed with a machine gun. Setting aside both glasses and ignoring the fiction on the screen, they relaxed with Duo leaning back onto the couch, his head on the armrest, braid trailing down to the floor as Heero straddled him, the kiss starting off languid, slow, the taste of wine on both their lips. No quick hard fucking. They'd done that. Slow and steady.

Heero's hands had finally found skin underneath the t-shirt and it indicated that the speed was picking up a little bit more. Duo smirked into the kiss, sliding his own fingers where they'd been resting at the waistband of loose jeans up to the small of the back, pushing up the loose fitting button down shirt and sliding fingers up Heero's toned back. He felt Heero thrust his hips forward into his own at the skin to skin contact and felt the friction, thrusting his own in response and flicking his tongue teasingly across his lips as they parted briefly, taking a breath.

"Maybe we should take this to bed…" Duo said, moving his fingers downwards again, this time moving a little underneath the jeans.

"We're taking this slow."

"Yeah, but there's slow and there's slow, babe. It's been three weeks."

"We've fucked twice today."

"So it'll last longer when we get to bed."

Heero responded by moving off him, grabbing the remote and flicking off the movie that seemed to be coming to some resolution as a bad guy was now monologue-ing. Nobody did that in real life, Duo thought, usually the bad guy just ran. Or tried to shoot you. He realised he'd blanked out for a second when a hand was in front of him and he accepted the firm grip pulling him up which was done a little too quickly so that he over balanced and ended up in Heero's arms. Crafty bastard.

It did result in some passionate kissing and it gave Duo opportunity to start unbuttoning the shirt – frustrating as it was – and he made a mental note to ask Heero to always just wear t-shirts as buttons were damned difficult when someone is rubbing up against you, with their tongue firmly in your mouth and their hands on your ass. When that someone looks like Heero Yuy did, it was even more of challenge. And so he may have just started to rip a little it. It really wasn't a problem. He'd buy him a new one as he stepped away, hearing a low growl of frustration come from his lover's lips at the sudden removal of body heat and friction as he walked towards their bedroom, hearing footsteps only a moment behind.

On stepping into the bedroom, Duo removed his t-shirt before walking over to the bed that was made with utter military grade perfection. He always wanted to say to Heero that making a bed did not matter – especially not _their_ bed and especially not when they'd not seen each other for so long, it seemed a pointless exercise. But Heero was like that – the apartment was tidy, clean and generally in much better shape than it would be when Duo was home alone. He sometimes felt guilty about what happened when this situation was reversed – when it was Heero on a long assignment and it was Duo sitting at home. He didn't clean, he barely ate anything that wasn't full of sugar or very unhealthy and he guiltily tried not to look at porn – while he was positive Heero looked at porn while he was away he'd be damned if he could ever find any evidence of it. Problem with having a lover whose computer expertise far outweighed your own was that Heero could see what _he'd _looked at in his absence but when Duo was curious if he watched hot boys with long hair get fucked then he'd come up with nada.

Right now that didn't matter – though Duo would always remain curious of what porn Heero did look at it – as Heero walked over to the bed and leaned over, running his fingers down Duo's chest and raising one eyebrow at the fact they were both shirtless but both still had jeans on.

"Thought we were taking this slow, Yuy."

Heero didn't respond. Instead he moved his hands down to his own waistband and began to unbutton the top slowly before moving to zipper. It seemed he was now taking slow literally again as the sound of the zip parting seemed to take forever but Duo didn't mind the little show. He got to watch the man he loved shirtless, in front of him, hard and pulling slowly at his jeans. It was erotic even though he wasn't quite sure if Heero knew what he was doing to him. He unconsciously licked his lips and flicked at his own button, raising an eyebrow as he did and quirking his lips as he looked up at Heero. Two could play the teasing game and he knew he was sure as hell better at it than Heero as he kneeled up on the bed so that they were face to face, chest to chest and jeans unzipped, ready to be on the bedroom floor rather than where they currently were, inconveniently on hips.

"Too slow?" Heero said, running the pad of his thumb across Duo's lips.

"Maybe a little."

"I did miss you."

"Yeah, I know."

The final articles of clothing removed, Duo found himself pushed down onto the bed with a very firm grip and he thought about protesting. About mentioning the fact that Heero had topped last in the shower despite his welcome home with his lover on his knees but maybe the wine had gone to his head or the damn tiredness of a mission or the fact that Heero was being particularly insistent but he laid back and enjoyed the teeth worrying his throat, the tongue laving it, the way hands, skilled and practised, made their way down his body and paid attention to every part of him except the part that demanded it.

When Heero's mouth returned from its exploration of chest, belly button, thigh and was back up to his lips, Duo could only manage half coherent moans as there was the moment of scrabbling around for lube and there was a familiar feeling of anticipation – of it being enough fucking foreplay and the need to just be connected, joined, fucking.

They kissed hard, Heero trapped one of Duo's hands above his head as the other sought out the cap of the tube and it was those times he was thankful he'd met a man like Heero – he really was damn superman. Could manage most things one handed.

He felt one lubed finger trail down his side, reaching underneath him, the slick trail around his waist and he shifted his hips to allow better access, the sudden pressure then in the spot he expected and then –

Fuck.

Duo had closed his eyes, letting the sensation of Heero's lips on his override the need for anything more than feeling and the first push of a finger. It was then they flipped open and Heero looked at him with the same level of confusion as the interruption had stopped the kiss and they were looking at each other in the dim light of their bedroom, bodies sweaty and breathing heavy.

It became clear after it happened again. The doorbell. The fucking doorbell. Nobody knew the location of their apartment apart from very few friends. Indeed, to get into the building people needed to know the special combination to get into the lobby and the key code to use the elevator and that meant in reality that it could only be even fewer people. It paid to be paranoid as former internationally renowned terrorists and the building they had purchased an apartment in had the most high tech security possible. So they did not get visitors unannounced. Ever. Unless…

"You have to be kidding me," Duo said, melodramatically slamming his head back into the soft bedding and being only able to watch as Heero crawled off him, unashamed of his nakedness and walked over to the window to peer through the blinds.

"Quatre's car."

"Again. You have to be _fucking _kidding me."

Heero turned, his arms folded across his chest. "He's _your _friend."

"He's _your _friend too, Heero, unless you forget that shit. Or he's only _my _friend when he appears and interrupts us fucking."

It was then that the insistent buzzing of a cellphone could be heard. Perfect. Duo groaned and put his forearm over his eyes as he realised whose phone it was. It wasn't his – he'd adopted an irritating ring tone on his phone for those two fucking idiots as a warning and it was only Heero who had it just on vibrate. He'd once teased that it was kinky and that Heero just liked to feel something vibrate in his pocket but he'd got a glare for that.

"Trowa," he heard Heero say as he'd glanced at the phone.

The doorbell rang again. Duo sat up realising that any attempt to continue their night of slow hot fucking was not going to come to fruition as there was some relationship crisis going on that it seemed no one else could deal with.

"Fine. I'll deal with Quat and get him outta the apartment within an hour and you deal with Trowa."

Heero nodded and was already pulling on shorts and Duo found that very disappointing as he got up, looked for some sweatpants and a tank before steeling himself for the inevitable emotional onslaught and the patient and friendly advice he was supposed to give. Thankfully, the whole irritation and annoyance of the situation had started to calm the sexual tension and he went from being very hard to now, not so much. He needed to tell their _friends _that they were the most annoying cock-blockers ever. If they were straight it would work as a very effective method of contraception – friends who couldn't have a week without some kind of crisis.

The doorbell rang again and Duo cursed a few times as he finished dressing and tried to figure out if his braid was in any condition for anyone to see it – but hell, he didn't care. Quatre was smart. He'd figure out what they had been doing.

He gave Heero a quick peck on the lips as he held his cell phone to return the vidcall and then he heard the muffled start of whatever that conversation was going to be as he walked through the apartment to the door and another, final ring of the doorbell before he opened and tried not to look as pissed as he felt at seeing Quatre on the other side, his finger poised to ring again.

"Please don't ring that again, Quat."

"Sorry," he offered. "I just needed to speak to you and I knew you were due back today…"

Duo just waved him into the apartment. "Take a seat."

Quatre was a regular visitor to the apartment. Usually singularly. It seemed Quatre only ever visited when there was some argument with Trowa on-going so that Duo tried to remember if Trowa had even been inside their place. He supposed he must've as he closed the door and input the locking code from the reverse and followed Quatre noting his friend's suit, the bow tie loose around his neck. The suit suggested what the argument could be about and it made Duo want to shake his head. They kept going around in damn circles and it was getting infuriating.

Duo grabbed a tumbler from the kitchen before joining his _friend _in the living room and poured him a glass of wine into it. It wasn't the most civilised and he sure as hell guessed Quatre's night was meant to be a lot more classier than this but he accepted the glass and took a sip as Duo grabbed one of the wine glasses – either his or Heero's – and decided to pour what remained in one into the other. When you share spit and other bodily fluids, he really didn't give a fuck about using the same glass or drinking leftover wine. He just had a feeling wine would be required to be not so grumpy and give acceptable advice.

It seemed Quatre had realised once he was in the living area the night he'd disturbed. The shirt on the floor gave some indication. Wine gave some indication. And Duo guessed his appearance gave some indication. He thought he could feel a hickey on his neck where Heero had been licking only minutes before and raised his hand to it as he realised Quatre's eyes had settled on that.

"I interrupted –"

"Yeah, you interrupted."

"I should go," he said, making a movement but Duo stopped him with a wave.

"Heero's talking to Trowa so I guess you've totally ruined the mood anyway."

Quatre looked like he was ready to start apologising – he had that look in his baby blues and Duo couldn't deal with that level of sincere apology when he was ever so slightly pissy and horny. He took a deep glug of the wine and sat back on the couch, sitting back with one arm draped over the back, the other holding the glass loosely.

"Shoot, Quat."

"I've been away for five days to the L4 mining satellites," he started and Duo tried not to look impatient. He didn't need a blow-by-blow account – just needed the damn gist for fucks sake. He continued. "I told Trowa before I left that I needed to attend the opera tonight. That I needed to go with Senator Marsh and I wanted him to go with me."

Duo tried to nod sympathetically but the alarm bells had already started ringing in his head. Opera? A Senator? Really? For someone who was in touch with his feelings, who was empathetic and sympathetic, the one person who Quatre seemed completely ignorant of was the guy he was actually sleeping with. Trowa really wasn't the opera kind of guy. Really wasn't the schmoozing politician type and it seemed that Quatre regularly forgot that. Quatre was still speaking when Duo returned his attention to his friend.

"… but he made no attempt to get dressed and then walked out – I don't even know where he went. I know he didn't take a car and then I cancelled on the Senator which is going to anger the board but I couldn't just sit _there _when I have no idea where he is."

And finally, he stopped speaking, took a sip of wine and Duo figured this was when he was expected to give sage advice and provide some sort of plan of attack. His words, though, were harsher than he initially intended.

"Did you ask?"

Quatre blinked.

"You know, did you actually ask whether Trowa wanted to go with you?"

"Well…" he said, pausing over the question. "No… I just told him I wanted him to come with me. He didn't confirm he would."

"So you just like totally assumed he would?"

The blond stared at the wine in the tumbler that now had been severely depleted and downed what remained. Though there was still some wine left, Duo decided hard liquor was needed as he put down his own wine glass, walked over to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of expensive Scottish whiskey that had only ever been opened on these occasions, and brought it back into the living area. He stalled a second trying to use his overly sensitised hearing to ascertain how far Heero had got in his own mission and as there was some noise – quiet and brief – he guessed Heero was still engaged in talking to Trowa. Or whatever the fuck they did. Duo always assumed they just stared at each other over the vidscreen and grunted.

"I guess I never asked him."

Duo made a knowing 'hmm' noise at the back of his throat, pouring the whiskey into the tumbler and ignoring that fact that he should probably get a clean glass. He knew the risks of mixing drinks and didn't really care about mixing them while still in the glass. Quatre was probably used to expensive whiskey in fancy crystal glasses not in a wine stained tumbler. Right now, he didn't give a shit as he poured some into the wine glass, not caring how it looked as he returned to his relaxed position on the couch.

"You gotta think, Quat. Is Trowa an opera kinda guy? Does he want to be in the middle of _your _damn business deals?"

Quatre shrugged. "I didn't think of it like that."

"No, I guess you didn't. And this is why you both ending up bitching to me and Heero. See, you always come here after some bust up when Tro' walks out and you want me to figure out what the fuck you did wrong. But it's always the same thing, buddy. You don't ask or listen and he doesn't fucking speak up. So you need to meet in the middle. Like me and Heero do."

"I don't think everything can be solved by sex…"

"Hey! I resent that," Duo said, his finger wagging threateningly, "we don't solve all our shit through sex. It is an important part of our relationship but Jesus, there are times when even we don't have the energy. Or the time. Or whatever."

Realising he'd hit a nerve, Quatre took a sip of the whiskey and despite it being expensive, he shuddered a little as it went down. "I just mean, we aren't the same as you."

"Yeah, I _know _that because we actually, you know, fucking communicate rather than bitching to our friends."

As though he was aware of the tension in the room, the bedroom door opened and Duo glanced over to see Heero give a short nod in his direction as he walked over to the kitchen area and the fridge. Duo both loved and fucking hated the distraction as he walked sans shirt, got a bottle of water, took a deep drink that seemed more of a tease than anything else and spoke a few words to Quatre before returning to the bedroom. It was a reminder of what they were damn well meant to be doing and this made the infuriating conversation with Quatre even more irritating. The nod indicated Heero's part was all wrapped up – that Trowa would be returning to the Winner mansion and that meant Duo just had to get Quatre out. Which was easier said than done.

The distraction gone, Duo returned his gaze back to Quatre and decided it was time for his "speech" – his usual attempt to make sure Quatre understood what a dick he could be and what he needed to do.

"It's like we do shit together that we both wanna do. I know Heero doesn't wanna go drinking with guys from work so I don't make him and like hell do I want to go to lectures about some tiny internal computer processor thingy and fuck knows what else so we separate. It's not like we _need_ to do everything together," he said, taking a pause in his speech to take a sip of whiskey before continuing. "And sometimes you just gotta work out things you do want to do together. Like we go to the gym. We jog. We're damn training for a triathlon together but that's because weboth want to. We're not forcing the other to do shit they don't wanna do. That's what your expecting Tro' to do. You gotta work out things you can do together instead of expecting Trowa to do the stuff you want to do. Get it?"

"We haven't played music together for months… maybe I should suggest that we take some time to do that."

"Exactly! Something you both wanna do," Duo said with a little too much enthusiasm in the hope that he could get Quatre out of the apartment quickly and resume the earlier activities.

"I just feel like we're drifting… during the war we had a common goal and now… we don't."

Duo ran a finger through his bangs, already a little bit ruffled from the earlier groping and make out session and realised he'd not succeeded. He guessed he could see it. The drifting… the gap that was becoming less of a damn gap and more like a chasm. Valley. Something much bigger. Problem was, that Quatre and Trowa were from completely different worlds and that meant it got complicated. That, though in appearance, he and Heero were very _damn _different, they had some common shit. Both had the same level of fucked-up-ness in their childhoods or lack thereof. Both had the same guilt/self-sacrifice/needing to atone triangle of feelings that meant that they joined the Preventers post war to feel useful and found that they needed someone who understood that to live with. Both could be argumentative, stubborn, overly competitive and complete pains in ass but then they accepted each other – the good, the bad and the irritating. And they worked through stuff. Quatre and Trowa never seemed to – Trowa seemed to do his whole walking out routine and Quatre didn't seem to know how to react to it.

So post-war they were together but Duo never really got the impression that they were really _together_. As though they stayed together as they couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He didn't know Trowa's perspective on the whole thing – Heero did but then Heero didn't betray his confidence – but he figured that Quatre, though it was damn obvious he loved Trowa, he didn't really _get _him. That yeah, they had the war and the experience with Wing ZERO but that was a long time ago. And Trowa didn't have a true job, he volunteered at a few local animal shelters and went back to the circus a few times a month but it meant he spent a lot of time alone when Quatre was on business. Though both Duo and Heero went on missions, unable to work together, it never seemed to matter as when they were together, they seemed to just _work_. It took effort, they had to try, but somehow they just damn worked together_._ Duo didn't know how to explain it or how to give that advice.

He took a deep breath, looked at the lost puppyish look on Quatre's face, staring into a glass of alcohol as though it might have answers and decided that all he could do was try to give him something.

"Look, Quat, I don't know what to say here. The war was kinda… extreme so yeah, things happened that wouldn't have happened if we'd not been young and horny and thinking we were all gonna die, you know? But you gotta think, we've changed, it's like four years but you still love him, right?"

"Of course, it's just hard."

"Yeah, well, we always do things the hard way, it's kinda our thing."

Quatre gave a weak chuckle to that, his eyes meeting Duo's fully. "No, I suppose we never have done things the easy way."

"Tro's gone home so you just need to go back and talk to each other or have sex or whatever and just actually be there or something. You ain't helping your relationship sitting here talking to me. Just go back home Q and try to make it work."

With a decisive motion, Quatre put down the glass, some contents left, and got to his feet. Putting down his own glass, Duo got up and they exchanged a hug.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Quat," he replied and then mentally kicked himself.

Really, they needed to initiate a window when it was inappropriate for their friends to visit. Between the hours of eight p.m. and eight a.m. or something – he'd discuss it with Heero – but as they parted and walked over to the door, he felt a surge of relief. He noticed, ever so slightly, that the alcohol might have gone to Quatre's head but he knew there was a town car outside with a driver so he didn't worry too much about his personal safety.

In the doorway, Quatre turned and gave a half smile as Duo input the opening code for the door lock. "I am sorry for the interruption, I'll let you get back to…"

He didn't complete the sentence but the look on his face was enough. Duo just rolled his eyes. "Goodbye Quatre," he said firmly as the blond left, departing down the corridor to the elevator.

With Quatre finally out of the door, Duo input the locking code and leaned against it for a moment and waited for the small click that meant the electronic mechanism had gone back into place. He glanced up at the clock and figured he'd managed to dispense advice, get Quatre ever so slightly tipsy and solve the never ending Barton-Winner complicated as fuck relationship – or at least for one night. He decided to remove his tank top as he went back to the bedroom and opened the door to see Heero was now sitting on the bed reading something on a tablet. He leaned there for a few moments to admire the view.

"He's gone," Duo said, "wanna pick up where we were?"

Heero didn't answer. Instead, all he got was a look that was vaguely feral and the tablet being placed on the floor out of harm's way. That was all the invitation Duo needed, walking across the small space to join Heero on the bed and dropping the sweatpants when he got to the edge of the bed, stepping out of them. He crawled across to where Heero sat propped up against the headboard, straddling his body and fingering at the waistband of black shorts.

"You need to be kinda naked for this…"

With skilled fingers, he hooked underneath the elastic of the shorts and Heero aided the removal by shifting his hips. Duo threw them in the general vicinity of the floor but didn't get chance to aim as he made an "oomph" noise while Heero flipped them over with precision and force.

"This is where we were," Heero said, reaching for a wrist and pinning it above Duo's head, his mouth returning to where it had been prior to the interruption, tongue on the juncture of throat and collar bone.

"I think we were a lil further along."

"Thought we were taking it slow?"

Duo could hear the hint of tease, the curve of lips against his skin as a hand drifted over his abs, this time seeming more determined in movement.

"I think slow can go out the window."

"Agreed."

There was the familiar scramble for lube, still on the bedside table but Heero had seemed to not want to abandon the full body contact and Duo had been insistently pulling him down for a series of kisses that were becoming increasingly sloppy, needy and wet while his hand was trying to reach for the tube. He had managed the task – Duo thinking how he had to love Heero's skill of multitasking – and there was less need for foreplay as fuck, technically that had begun over an hour ago. Heero's lips left his and there was a wet trail down his chest, Duo watching through hooded eyes as Heero mouthed his way briefly over nipples, down his rib cage and then to his tense abdominal muscles, that dark head finally approaching the line of hair that led to where his cock stood at attention.

He could feel hot breath there, feel hands on the inside of his thighs forcing them apart and the first contact of slick gel that felt cold. Duo closed his eyes, moved a hand to Heero's hair to encourage the preparation and potential distracting blow job and felt a swipe of rough tongue just at the tip when –

Fuck again.

This time it was not the doorbell. The particular person on the other side of the door was not so sensitive. Or patient. The sound of persistent and hard knocking could be heard even from the bedroom.

"Yuy! Maxwell!"

More knocking.

"I _know _you are there!"

If there was ever a time when Duo wished that he had never been a Gundam pilot – never knew _any _of the damn pilots except the one currently between his legs who'd moved up to kneeling, body no longer in contact – then this was the time. And if he thought about it, he knew he would never wish he hadn't been a Gundam pilot as he would never have met Heero in a million years without that little twist of fate. But his anger and frustration could not be contained.

"Damn, fuck, hell, motherfucking…"

Duo could only manage a series of curses, trying to remember more of the creative ones from his time aboard Sweeper ships as Heero once again found his shorts and the attempt to have a _nice_, normal night of sex was aborted.

Another round of knocking and shouting. Duo winced and looked over to Heero who was listening at the doorway of their bedroom.

"You answer."

He sat up, grabbing where he'd left the sweatpants, slipping them on and giving Heero a glare as strong as any of his trademark Glare o' Deaths.

"I am _so _not answering. You do it."

"You're more understanding," Heero countered, his arms now folded firmly across his chest.

Duo took a few steps forward, poking at Heero's stomach. "You're scared of Wufei."

"I am not… but when he's like this…." Another round of angry 'Yuy' and 'Maxwell' could be heard. It seemed he figured out another angle of attack as Duo saw a slight smug look on his lover's face. "Surely Shinigami isn't scared of Wufei."

"Don't use that shit on me! Surely the Perfect Soldier can deal with one ranting dude… I don't think he carries a sword anymore, you know."

Realising they were at a stalemate and not wanting the neighbours to complain they both glared at each other.

"Okay," Duo said, sighing, and holding his hands up. "I'll do it if you make it worth my while."

He could see the frown appear on Heero's face as he said those words. His tone had been maybe a little… husky but he could see that there was a series of thought processes going on in that head.

"What do you want?" Heero ground out – suspicion in every syllable.

"A month topping."

"Exclusively?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Three weeks?"

"No."

"Two weeks?"

"Duo…" he said, exasperated but Duo could see he'd already won. "Five days."

"Five days?"

"I feel that is a reasonable allocation of days."

"Deal."

He passed Heero in the doorway, fingers lightly touching his shoulder and wondered how long it would take until he realised he might have been played ever so slightly. Duo knew he would never agree to a month but it was something Howard had taught him about negotiating when he was trying to buy scrap and parts for the masses of machines that the Sweepers maintained. The first offer would be unrealistic but that just got the whole negotiations started. Hell, he hadn't expected five days – he'd been going for three. Really, Heero must've really missed him.

The knocking and shouting at the door had not decreased in volume as Duo arrived, punching in the code and revealing one angry Wufei. It took a second to realise that this was not going to be as simple as Quatre's visit as he observed the black sports bag held in his hand.

"Sally has thrown me out," Wufei said as Duo's eyes took in the bag, "and you always said if I needed somewhere that as brothers and friends –"

"Yeah, yeah… we'll set up the guest room," he said, waving his hand to indicate he should enter.

He input the code, locked the door and then his eyes met Heero's who now was wearing a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt – all thoughts of sex gone.

"How long do you need to stay?" Heero asked.

"I don't know. Apparently I am no longer tolerable to live with either as a human being or as a boyfriend."

"As Duo said in the past, you can stay as long as you need."

Wufei muttered thanks, went to leave his bag in the room he'd used before, and ignored the sudden extreme amount of glaring going on between the two men. Heero only held up a hand, his five fingers outstretched and looked smug as Duo had realised his error. He didn't specify which five days and if it started today – which Heero's fingers indicated – then the next five days would include a houseguest where sex of any kind became a rare grope or a quick blowjob.

Duo responded by using one finger on his right hand – banged his head a little bit hard against the door behind him and then walked to acquire the alcohol to drown Wufei's sorrows. And his own.

Somewhere Duo had to find the whole situation funny – that out of the five of them, it was _them _that had the functional relationship, _them _that gave the advice and _them _that got their own lives interrupted. And despite no night of slow sweaty fucking and no five days of topping and no quality time with his lover due to houseguest – Duo guessed this was as happy as he was going to get and their relationship, though not perfect, was the best thing in his life.

And he wouldn't switch places with anyone. Though it would've been nice to get laid…


End file.
